Driven
by etmuse
Summary: She can't stay... but where will she end up? ZanLiz
1. Shut Up And Drive

Rating: T for language (may possible change later)  
Disclaimer: Yeah, I own Roswell... I also own the whole of Europe and the internet cough  
Author's Note: The song used in this chapter is 'Shut Up and Drive' by Chely Wright. I don't own that either.

_Liz POV_

* * *

How could he? How could he just play me for a fool like that? Did he really think I'd never find out, or that I'd be the naïve fool I was the last time? How dare he?

Angry tears streaming down my cheeks, rage pumping through my veins, I tear through the small apartment we have shared for nearly five years now. I pull a case from under our bed, _our_ bed. The thought of sharing a bed with him now makes me sick. I can hear him talking at me from the bedroom door, but I tune it out. There's nothing he can say now that I want to hear. I yank the closet open, ripping clothes from hangers, seizing others from shelves. Turning to the dresser, I wrench a drawer from its runners, dumping the contents haphazardly into my rapidly filling case. He's still talking, promises that it will never happen again vaguely reaching my ears. That's what you said last time, jerk.

Pushing roughly past him, I head to the bathroom, sweeping everything I need into a bag and throwing it into the case. If a few things end up on the floor, I ignore them. He trails after me, empty words spilling from his lips.

"Liz, please……never again……a mistake……"

Blanking him, I grab some framed photos of my family from the sideboard. A picture of the two of us falls to the floor, smashing. It was taken just a few months ago, after our college graduation. Back when I stupidly believed everything he told me. When I thought that he meant it when he told me he loved me. I step around the broken glass. I don't care about the mess I'm making, it's not my problem anymore.

I pick up my purse, and head out to the car, battered suitcase in one hand, keys clutched in the other. I know he follows me out of the house, but I don't look back at him as I throw my case into the car, climbing in after it. I turn the key in the ignition as he bangs on the window, begging me to stop, to get out of the car and listen to him. He continues to bang on the car as I start to move. He's yelling now, but I don't let myself listen. I have to get out of here.

_Shut up and drive  
__You don't know what you're talking about  
__He's not the one  
__You ought to know that by now_

My tears start falling in earnest as I turn the corner at the end of the block. I don't really know what to do now. I've been with him since I was 15. I don't think I know how to be on my own anymore.

Back then everything was so simple. We were young. We were in love. Nothing else really mattered. I'd known him since 7th grade, when his dad moved them from LA to Roswell, New Mexico. He walked into my class, and my heart stopped right there. He had these beautiful, soulful brown eyes, and a shy smile that melted my knees. We were inseparable right from the start, but it wasn't until nearly two years later I finally worked up the courage to tell him how I felt. I remember being so happy when he told me he felt the same. That I was the first person he'd seen when he walked into that class, and he'd been crazy about me ever since.

At that time, I know he meant it. He was always so considerate, so sweet. He used to come and stare at me at work. If that sounds creepy and stalker-like, it wasn't like that. I was a waitress at my dad's café, and he would sit in a booth for hours just watching me work. He used to say they were some of the best hours he'd ever spent, even if we hardly had a chance to talk. We would slip through the back in my breaks, make out in the alley behind the kitchen.

We made love for the first time when we were 17. Both of us hopelessly inexperienced, knowing how we felt, but not exactly sure what we needed, beyond each other. Even with fingers shaking nervously, sweat beading on his forehead, he was slow and gentle. He didn't want to hurt me, he told me he never wanted to. He made our first time wonderful. He made all our times wonderful. I guess I was stupid to think I was the only one.

_You've got one of those hearts  
__That keeps changing your mind  
__Your heart has a way  
__Of making you stay  
__So shut up and drive_

We finished high school, both graduating with honours. Incredibly, our parents agreed to us sharing a small apartment when we left together to go to college. We were so excited. We were leaving home. We were going to college. But most of all, we were together. We were blissfully happy for two years. He asked me to marry him. I accepted, ecstatic at the idea of spending the rest of my life with him. We were going to be married at the start of next year. I'm glad I found out when I did.

At the start of our Junior year in college, I found out he'd cheated on me. I felt like an idiot. I felt like _I_ was scum, even though _he_ was the one who'd cheated. He apologised. Begged and pleaded with me to take him back. Swore it was just a drunken mistake. That it would never happen again. Fool that I was, I believed him. I took him back. But things were never quite the same after that.

_Don't look in the mirror  
__He might have that look in his eyes  
__The one that's so strong  
__It strangles your will to survive_

_He's mastered the art  
__Of looking sincere  
__His eyes have a way  
__Of making you stay  
__Don't look in the mirror_

He still told me he loved me, but thinking back on it now, it never really rang true. They had become just another group of words that didn't really mean anything. He said them, but he didn't _act_ them anymore. Instead of spending time together snuggling on the couch, each of us with a book to study, he started shutting himself away in our room, insisting he needed total quiet to work. The halcyon days of our past where we could be happy and content just being with each other were long gone. We started spending less and less time together, and there were many times I nearly left him.

But then, out of the blue, he'd do something incredible for me. Something that made me feel special and cared for. Something that would make me fall in love with him all over again. Something that always made me stay.

It was those moments that would remind me of the boy he'd once been. The shy, amiable, sweet boy that was a hopeless romantic. My first love.

Maybe he somehow sensed I was on the brink of leaving. His romantic gestures always came at just the moment they were needed to change my mind.

_I'm the voice you never listen to  
__And I had to break your heart to make you see  
__That he's the one who will be missing you  
__And you'll only miss the man  
__That you wanted him to be_

When we finally graduated, he took me away to the coast for the weekend. I'd never seen the sea before, and he knew it was something I'd always wanted to do. That he remembered something like that made me feel that maybe our relationship could be ok again. It was a great holiday. Not that we saw an awful lot of the beach or the sea – we spent most of the holiday in our room. The last few years, that was the only place we still gelled; in bed. They say a lot of relationships get through the rough patches by shutting themselves in the bedroom…I guess we've been trying to ride out this 'rough patch' for years now. Or at least I was, maybe he just didn't care enough.

He encouraged me to wait for the job I really wanted rather than taking the first decent thing that came along. He insisted that he could support us until I found my dream job. So I waited, wondering how I managed to get so lucky as to have a guy that would work harder so that I could wait for _that_ job. But then again, on reflection now, maybe his motives weren't so altruistic after all. I mean, if I don't have a job, and I'm relying on him to support me, I can't leave him can I? But I guess he got that one wrong, because even though I didn't, and I was…look at me now, I just did.

_Turn the radio on  
__To drown out the sound of goodbye  
__Blink back the tears_  
_Show me you've still got your pride_

_Just get yourself lost  
__In a sad country song  
__Those guys that they play  
__Know just what to say  
__Turn the radio on_

It was just this morning that I got the call. It was one of his colleagues, a really great guy called Alex. We've gone out with him and his girlfriend a few times in the last few months. Isabel seemed a little snobby to start with, until she lightened up and let us see how lovely she really is.

It's always nice to hear from Alex, but what he had to say today wasn't so nice.

I can't believe I was so blind. He always put her down, called her a slut, and a lot of names not nearly as polite as that. And then Alex called today and told me about the affair. How did I manage not to notice?

Tess Harding. The trashiest receptionist you ever did see. She's actually proud of the fact that she's slept with about half the males in the office, including the boss. It's probably how she got the job in the first place.

I knew when I picked up the phone and heard how subdued Alex was that something wasn't right. Alex is usually cheerful even when things have gone to crap. He's a born optimist. It was clear from his tone that he didn't want to be saying what he was. And when he finally spit it out, I didn't want to believe it. I questioned Alex thoroughly about his certainty, because I desperately wanted it not to be true. I _needed_ for it not to be true.

Even after hanging up, I wasn't totally convinced. I was sure that if I asked him about it, he would be able to tell me honestly that there had been some misunderstanding somewhere. That it wasn't what it seemed.

_I'm the voice you never listen to  
__And I had to break your heart to make you see  
__That he's the one who will be missing you  
__And you'll only miss the man  
__That you wanted him to be_

I hate that he tried to hide it by telling me how little he thought of her, when he was sleeping with her behind my back the whole time. I hate it.

But I'm not sure if it hurts more to know _that_ than it does to know he didn't even try to deny it.

I sat and waited for him to come home all afternoon. Part of me hoping it was all a mistake, part of me already dying inside because it just hurt so much.

I finally heard him open the door and come in, an indifferent look on his face as he wandered into the lounge and dropped his case.

Softly, calmly, I asked him the question I'd been waiting to ask all afternoon. His answer destroyed me.

"How did you find out?"

Not even a token denial. I guess I should be happy that he was honest. But somehow, I'm not. I wonder why.

I jumped to my feet as the angry tears started to fall. Ran around the house gathering the things I needed. I couldn't stay.

_Shut up and drive_

_Don't look in the mirror_

_Turn the radio on_

_Get out of here_

So here I am. Leaving him. I don't need him to live, I don't. I'll get by. Somehow. Tears are streaming down my cheeks, making it hard to concentrate on the road, but I don't stop. I need to get as far from him as I can. I don't know where I'm going and I don't care.

Max Evans is no longer a part of my life. I control my own destiny. I _don't_ need him to survive.

_Shut up and drive_


	2. Watchin' Ya

_Zan POV

* * *

_

Was crazy I even saw her.

The club was wild that night. They were packin' the floor, an' ma staff were runnin' ragged behind the bars. I even pulled a shift at one myself. I aint done that in a long while. With that many people 'round the place it was a strange thing that my eyes spent most of the night followin' this one girl.

She came in 'bout ten o'clock, or near as. From the moment she walked through the damn door I was drawn to her like somethin' awful.

She had this long dark hair my fingers just ached to run through, and a body like you wouldn't believe. S'no doubt she was one of the most attractive women in the place, but I'm not usually that taken with a girl just from seeing her across a room. I had to restrain myself from just going over there and jumpin' her, but she didn't look the type that would take to that real well. She looked too nice for somethin' like that.

But what really stopped me was the painful look in those beautiful dark eyes of hers. It was like somethin' was hauntin' her, an' she wasn't real sure what she was doin' here. She sat for ages down at the bar. Pourin' her little heart out to the bar staff most likely.

She looked so alone, even surrounded by people, an' maybe I can relate to that. What with Ava findin' herself a guy, an' ma sis settlin' down with 'er kid.

For years it was jus' the three of us. Me, Lonnie an' Ava. We was a team. None of our folks paid us much attention, so we was free. We jus' roamed wherever we felt.

Then, when me and Lon was 'bout ten, we 'came even freer. We came home on night to a empty place. That wasn't rare, but that time they never showed up. The jus' up and left us. That's when we got lucky, I guess. Me an' Lon coulda ended up anywheres, out completely on our own, or the state coulda picked us up and dumped us in some home. At least with Ava's folks we knew where we were. Maybe they didn't always spend a lot of time with us all, but they made sure we was ok.

It was the three of us against the rest of the world. But now Lon an' Ava got their own lives, and then there's me.

So, yeah, I could relate to that lonely look I saw in her eyes.

After a few hours, somethin' suddenly changed. I admit it, I was still watching her. I jus' couldn't stop. But she jus' downed 'er drink, and got up to join the mob out on the floor. Even after a bunch o' drinks, she still had some damn hot moves. An' she's a beautiful girl, I could see I wasn't the only guy havin' a hard time not t' watch 'er. Was makin' it awful difficult to keep ma mind on the job.

Eventually I jus' had t' get away a bit. Went an' hid in ma office. Not that it helped a whole lot. Tried t' sit an' get some of the pile o' paper on ma desk done. The words on the pages in front of me didn't make a load o' sense, cos ma vision kept fillin' wi' long brown hair an' lonely soulful eyes.

I had to give up. Decided I'd try cool off a bit outside. Ducked out the back door into the cool night air. Jus' as I was draggin' a cooling breath into ma overheated body, the door behind me opened, an' a young couple stumbled out. At first I didn't take no notice of them. There's always people comin' out here to make out away from the crush of the dance floor. They hadn't seen me lurkin' in the dark, so I jus' kept quiet an' tried t'ignore 'em.

As I was turnin' to go back inside, I noticed somethin'. It was her.

All my attempts to cool off and stop thinkin' 'bout her were all of a sudden senseless. The object of my unexpected obsession was standin' barely a few feet away, but she was with someone else.

I was jus' about to escape back into the heat of the club when I had a horrible realisation. The moans an' noises she was makin' weren't in pleasure, they was in protest. She was strugglin' to get away an' this creep wasn't lettin' her.

I saw red. No guy has the right to force himself on a girl, 'specially if she's a bit drunk and most likely hurtin'.

Not really carin' 'bout what could happen afterwards, I sized the guy up and strode over. He was bigger than me, but I practically grew up on the streets. I can handle myself in a punch up. I grabbed 'is shoulder an' swung 'im round so I could land a punch across his sleazy jaw. He stumbled back a bit, 'an I could see him lookin' at me a little drunkenly. He musta decided he could take me, cos next thing I know he's launched 'imself at me. He took a swing, but I guess the alcohol in his blood screwed with his aim, cos he missed. My answering hook didn't though, an' from the corner of my eye I could see the girl backin' away anxiously as he staggered back an' wiped the blood off 'is mouth. He looked back an' forth between us a couple o' times, and seems he decided it wasn't worth the beatin', cos he turned an' ran off.

Pushin' down the hormones rampagin' through ma body at bein' out here alone with this gorgeous girl, I went over to check how she was doin'.

"Ya ok Angel?"

Close up I could see she was shakin'. She took in a deep breath, starin' at 'er feet.

"Yeah, I think so. Or I will be. Thanks to you." I could tell from the way she talked she's not from 'round here. She finally looked up at me, an' I could see true gratitude in her eyes before it was replaced by somethin' else. I couldn't tell what it was, but it looked kinda like shock.

"Somethin' wrong babe?"

"What?"

"Ya's lookin' at me kinda funny. Ya sure ya's ok?"

She shook her head as if to clear a thought, an' I struggled not t' get distracted by the movement of that lovely dark hair. She took another long breath, an' I could see the resolve appearin' in her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure. It's nothing. Thank you again for…you know. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't shown up." I shifted a bit uncomfortably at her ardent thanks.

"No need t' thank me. I'm just glad I got the bastard in time." My fists clenched again jus' thinkin' 'bout the creep. I sucked in a lungful of cool air to calm down, an' stuck out my hand. "Zan, by the way."

I wasn't prepared for the jolt of awareness that shot through me when she hesitantly took it, an' answered,

"Liz."

Tryin' like hell t' keep ma mind from wanderin', I pulled ma hand back an' stuck it in ma pocket.

"Um, ya gonna be 'k getting' home, or…?" She looked out at the street worriedly.

"I don't exactly have a home to go to right now." She bit her lip. "I'm kinda staying at a motel."

I could tell she wasn't lookin' forward to the idea of walkin' back there alone.

"I'll walk with ya, if ya want. Ya's been shaken' up good tonight, y'ain't in no fit state t' be walkin' back on yer own."

She looked conflicted for a minute, lookin' at me as if she was tryin' to work out if she could trust me. When she finally answered, it was barely a whisper.

TBC...


End file.
